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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866573">Prelude</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orichals/pseuds/Orichals'>Orichals</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child Technoblade, Dehumanization, Enemies to Friends, Found Family, Gen, Piglin Technoblade, The Nether (Minecraft), Well more like "enemies to adopted child and beleaguered dad"</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:14:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866573</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orichals/pseuds/Orichals</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes families don’t come together all smoothly and easily like they do in books. Sometimes there’s attempted murder and thievery before either party even meets, and then sometimes there’s children with swords too big for them and homes too empty to be left alone. Sometimes families are a slow and sinking realization instead of a simple emotion, and sometimes that works too.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>417</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The empty bastion spread like an oil spill across the red sea of netherrack. Turrets and broken walls covered the ground outside the gates, and Phil noted the utter lack of life in the fortress. Usually piglins roamed around inside and outside ruins like these, using them for shelter, but there wasn’t any activity here whatsoever. It was almost enough to be concerning, but Phil knew he was decent in a fight, and most bastions had to have been abandoned at one point or another to get to the state of disrepair they were in. If everything was as it seemed this might be the easiest exploration he’d done so far.</p><p>Phil stepped over the broken obsidian bridge, and ran his hands over the old carvings chipped into the entranceway. As he continued further into the bastion he took the time to appreciate the decaying sort of beauty the walls held. This might have been the most peaceful he’d ever felt in the Nether. The passageway he was in opened up into a lava coated treasure room like many he’d been to before. Despite the familiarity, the walls still held gold veneer, which he’d never seen fully intact. Phil zigzagged across the lava and wiped sweat off his brow at the sizzling heat, tugging at his armour a little to loosen the pressure.</p><p>It was when he’d gotten to the middle of the room and inspected the untouched gold chunks around him when he realized that he wasn’t alone.</p><p>A golden blade came arcing down across his shoulder and only Philza’s quick reflexes saved him from a disabling wound. He darted out of the way quickly and drew his sword.</p><p>It was a piglin. More specifically, a tiny one, just a baby, and Phil frowned. Where had it even come from? The strike had been from above him, so it must have sat on the crossed beams overhead and waited to jump down. Also, why was it attacking him? He was wearing gold.</p><p>Phil pressed forwards and swung his sword, trying to trap the piglin into a corner, but it dodged, stepped on his blade, and then went for his legs. Phil kicked the blow aside and took his sword back, grimacing as the creature skidded backwards and then immediately came for him again. He found himself on the defensive and hissed through his teeth as he was forced towards the main bridge across the lava.</p><p>Phil had been a bit cocky because most piglins didn’t fight anything like this one. The bugger was fast, and though it didn’t have technique it could swing a sword incredibly quickly. Still, because Philza had gotten off on the wrong foot at the start of this fight he hadn’t shown most of his true skill, and he relied on that to make a believable feint, slashing his sword across the piglin’s chest. It fell backwards and Phil managed to cut it on the arm too before it picked the golden sword back up and blocked weakly, breath coming out in shaky puffs. Phil knocked the blade out of its hands and leaned over, ready to put the thing out of its misery.</p><p>He hesitated for just a moment too long, wondering about the unnatural skills the piglin had displayed. There was a strange sort of intelligence to it all.</p><p>That’s when Phil heard the hiss of lava and realized the piglin had managed to reach for its sword again. The malleable gold end had been dipped in lava. It was all he'd had time to register before he was screaming.</p><p>The melted metal sank deep into his right forearm, right in between diamond plates, and little droplets had broken off and sprayed across his torso. They ran in rivulets through the cracks in his armor and Phil, shaking, untied as much of it as he could from his body, just dumping it beside him. He gasped like a dying fish and leaned into the ground on his hands and knees.</p><p>His sword was pulled away from him, and Phil recognized that as the threat it was, getting to his feet. Hobbling backwards, the man went over the obsidian bridge and then collapsed in an alcove with just enough distance away from the lava for the air to not be scorching.</p><p>The piglin child crouched at the middle island, Phil’s netherite sword in hand and coated in blood. It scooted backwards after it seemed to realize Phil wasn’t coming back and then leaned against one of the gold blocks.</p><p>Philza quickly searched through his stuff while his adrenaline was still high. He had two ender pearls, food, and bandages, but his healing potions were all gone. It was hard to think when his arm was still sizzling with pain, but Phil could see his jacket was stuck to the wound and - that wasn't a good thing. He bit down on his urge to panic, and got out his extra knife, cutting the fabric away with unsteady hands. Then he carefully pulled the edges out from where they’d melted to his skin, gritting his teeth at the pain. Phil tried not to think about whether the sword had come out of his arm in one piece or whether there were gold pieces still within his flesh. He unrolled a length of gauze and tied it off. He was done. Phil sat back with a weak exhale and tried to keep his eyes from watering.</p><p>There were other areas that were burning, and hot gold was still clinging to his shirt, but he honestly refused to do anything about it. He just wanted to take a break.</p><p>Phil might have passed out. It was hard to tell. One second he had been wide awake, then the next he was blinking his eyes open and feeling the kind of exhaustion that only came from waking up in the morning.</p><p>His arm felt more numb than painful now, and Phil felt relieved at that, but he was also very very concerned. He wasn’t dead, so the piglin had probably forgotten about him. That would make sense for what he knew about most of their species, but he had a sinking feeling that this would be a different case. After all, he'd been attacked without any provocation.</p><p>It felt stupid to be so scared of a child, but he was almost defenceless without his armor or his sword. He did have two knives, and an old bow, but he wasn’t as good with them as he was with swords.</p><p>The alcove he was in still had a full view of the lava pit that was the treasure room, and to get back out of the ruins he’d have to cross back over the bridge, or dig through the walls. He could also ender pearl but with his throwing arm injured, that was dangerous. He could also just… Phil stared down at the lava.</p><p>He could die.</p><p>He was prepared to hold himself together for a respawn, it wouldn’t be difficult now that he wasn’t panicked. Phil would have to come back for his stuff, but he’d be prepared. This might be the least painful option with the healing properties of respawning. The dying would hurt, sure, but after that it would be fine. His injuries probably hadn’t existed long enough for him to have a lasting scar from this, and he could come back later and kill the piglin easily enough now that he knew it was here.</p><p>Phil gazed over at the middle island. Then he did a double take. The child wasn’t there.</p><p>He stood, leaning against the wall for support and unhooking his bow from his back. He gingerly nocked an arrow, careful of his arm, and then he walked closer to the bridge, gazing up just in case of another surprise attack. It had probably gotten bored, Philza decided, though something still rolled in his stomach.</p><p>Annoyingly his armour and sword had been spirited away. He'd expected that.</p><p>Phil knew his respawn idea was the best he was going to get, but it was hard to go through with now.</p><p>Two ender pearls, food, his bow… it would be disappointing to lose it, but he had all that back at his home too. Phil stared into the lava with resignation on his face. There wasn’t much for it. He lowered his bow and tossed it into the furnace first, watching as the magma rose and bubbled. Then his knife. It would have burned up with him anyway but there was a strange sort of ritual to this and he’d feel guilty if he didn’t see it through. His food and bandages were next and then finally Phil took one last look around him and stepped out into the sweltering heat.</p><p>As his head tilted up one final time, he saw the piglin. It was just sitting and staring at him from one of the upper floors of the bastion, as if it had stepped out specifically to watch him. Before Philza’s foot touched the top of the lava, he had that roiling, uneasy feeling in his stomach again, and he wondered if he was imagining the confused step forward the piglin took as it watched him fall towards the lava.</p><p>It was after all a very short fall. There couldn’t have been much time to see little details like that.</p><p>In general Phil tried not to burn to death. It was one of the worst ways to go when trying to keep a hold on the respawn magic, and Phil had known a man who’d died permanently from a fireplace accident.</p><p>It was just so painful.</p><p>Phil had died by fire once before, to a blaze, but lava was different. It was quick. The heat blistered his skin right before impact, and then his clothes were on fire and he was choking. His flesh burnt inwards and it smelled like smoke and suddenly he couldn’t feel his legs - then his torso was gone too. He’d never felt anything like it. All he could do was desperately envision his house, and curl all his energy inwards to try and keep his mind together. He didn’t know if it was working.</p><p>Phil wondered if he was screaming.</p><p>And then he was gone. It was cold, so cold, the void, and then he felt the polished wood of his floor on his back and he was still cold and he could breathe and speak and he was crying and why did it still hurt -</p><p>It always hurt the same after respawning, didn't it? Was this the feeling he'd gotten last time? Phil reached his arms out wide and they shook but he found the wall after fumbling around enough. This was his house, and his body.</p><p>He was alive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I'm back! You see, compliments are very motivating</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil didn’t go outside for a few days. The empty feeling of the void still sat in his chest like a replacement heart and he didn’t feel like fighting again so soon. The furthest he went from his small house was tending the garden and pulling water from the well, daily chores. He prepared his extra armor and sharpened his sword and cooked badly.</p><p>However, he needed to earn his own keep, and for that he needed to do his job. He could pick somewhere else to go, not the same bastion he’d just been in, but Philza wanted his armor back and it wasn’t exactly satisfying knowing he’d been driven out by one slightly smarter than average piglin. Most other ruins would be harder to conquer anyways, with more mobs and more traps. This was his best bet to find things he could sell this next season.</p><p>Phil brought his enchanted bow this time, and his iron armor. Armor quality didn’t really matter if his enemies went for the gaps in between plates as that piglin had, so he barely worried about it. Swords mattered a bit more, so Phil took his one and only enchanted diamond.</p><p>He was shaky as he traipsed down the familiar path to the Nether portal and then to the bastion ruins. The blue glow of the warped forest he had to pass through just made his apprehension rise, even if he usually loved that part of the landscape. Once Phil got to the pure netherrack wastes ghasts and wither skeletons came out in full force, but he wasn’t too tired and he was able to avoid them well enough. Eventually the crumbling blackstone walls came into view. He rubbed his face and set his jaw. This would be easy. It would be fine.</p><p>Phil was twice as careful descending this time. He had a pencil and a sheet of parchment with him, and he marked each room down as he passed it by. He only peeked at the treasure room once before walking through the upper floors that ringed around it. Dried blood was crusted around a few pillars, and Phil wondered if it was possible the piglin had bled out before he’d even gotten back. He doubted it.</p><p>Phil didn’t feel like taking risks. The lava death had taught him to have a little more patience. So, Phil went back up through the corridors and looked around the top of the bastion.</p><p>He didn't find anything until the last possible moment, when he was about to turn around. Only the smell of blood permeating the air let him realize something was amiss. There wasn’t a door or another archway in sight, but there was another smear of red on the floor.</p><p>Phil pushed and tapped on the walls until something moved with startling ease. He yelped and jumped backwards and the blackstone snapped back into place.</p><p>He pressed on it again.</p><p>It was a hidden entrance, he realized, and grinned. It was a little fun, to be honest. He put his back against it and pushed carefully, his sword held in front of him. There was another short passageway, and he could see light at the end. Phil slunk through it in silence.</p><p>The piglin was in the room ahead and Philza stopped moving. That was a startling amount of blood. The chamber might have been a strategy room at one point based on the decorative table taking up most of the space, and the throne-like chair the piglin had sat upon. The child looked anything but intimidating with old rags bunched under it, stained a reddish brown, and a gold crown clutched in both its hands. Phil’s armor and sword sat beside the chair in a disorganized pile.</p><p>One thing Phil had always been good at was stealth. He’d survived off of stealing after all. Sneaking through the room without a sound was simple, and soon Phil was halfway across to where the creature sat.</p><p>The piglin looked pathetic and tiny in the clear view of candlelight. Blood was smudged across its snout and its already degrading clothes were turning brownish black as the wound aged.</p><p>Phil doubted there was much fight left in it, but he was still silent until he was right against the throne, holding a knife to its neck. “Hey.”</p><p>The piglin’s eyes opened and it made a squealing huff. Phil’s stomach twisted in disgust at the familiar sound. It reminded him of too many close calls and the perverse, twisted creatures of the Nether, but it also reminded him of the fact that he was going to kill the piglin in cold blood.</p><p>Phil would count himself lucky if he never heard another piglin’s cry again, but he’d spent a hefty amount of time thinking about this one and battling to the death with it, and somewhere in there he’d started to feel bad about killing it while it was injured and disorientated. Maybe he’d gotten attached. Somehow. Phil needed more friends.</p><p>There was a moment where the piglin looked terribly confused, staring at Phil with a blank look before going tense. It tried to shimmy back, tried to slip away, but the way it had to move to slide out of Phil’s hold seemed incredibly painful. There was a terrible gasping noise, and then the piglin slumped over in clear agony.</p><p>He rubbed a hand over his face and took the knife away, drawing back. If nothing else he was sure he could take one prodigal mob with a possible infection and major blood loss. There wasn’t any harm in just seeing what happened when it couldn’t attack.</p><p>The piglin tried to dash upright but it immediately fell sideways and pressed a hand to its arm, grunting.</p><p>It looked up at Phil and he didn’t see the bloodthirst he was expecting in those eyes, just a terrible fear. He immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t his imagination, the creature was shaking as well, and he couldn’t just pretend that it was pent up rage like he would have done weeks ago.</p><p>Phil bit his lip, and sighed against his hand. He looked down at his bag, and at the incapacitated piglin. He could just leave the child here while he gathered his things and cleared out the fortress, but that felt almost worse than putting him out of his misery this very second. No. For the second time Phil took out his bandages, and put them, his knife, and some antiseptic cream out on the big netherrack table.</p><p>With careful movements Philza turned back around and bent over the big chair, showing his empty hands. “I’m just going to pick you up, okay?”</p><p>The piglin fought him as he reached over, but he froze up again as he put a hand on his good arm and one under his legs. Philza brought him over to the table with startling ease, noticing just how thin he felt through his dirty clothes. He wondered if piglin parents were the ones who fed their children, because he doubted this little guy had anyone looking after him.</p><p>He kept one hand on the piglin’s arm and with the other he reached for his knife, which the piglin tensed at. Phil held it out just a little for him to inspect and then he cut a slice through his own black coat, just to show what he was planning.</p><p>Philza wasn’t sure if the kid could understand what he was going for or not. Still, he squeezed his thin shoulder lightly like he would with a human child and then cut through the other side of his shirt, neck to sleeve. There was even more shaking now, and one almost silent whine. Phil patted the piglin’s bare arm to get his attention, trying to tell him he wouldn’t be hurt. His head swung around and he grunted, eyes narrowing, then looked back up at Phil. It was interesting to see, and after that he settled down much more quickly than Phil was expecting.The shaking was still there, but it was only noticeable when Phil moved faster then he should have. It was quick to slice through his shirt again when he wasn’t squirming and then the adventurer started the difficult process of actually pulling away bloody cloth from skin.</p><p>There were a lot more pained squeals during this step then he was comfortable with. Phil first registered the loud noises as a threat, and his head jerked uprights, startling the piglin into darting backwards and pulling a large strip of his shirt with him. It all came off in one big chunk and it took a large portion of scab with it. Phil winced. The piglin whimpered and shrunk back.</p><p>After debating with himself, Phil leaned across the table and scooped him up as quickly as possible, then moved him towards the first aid kit again.</p><p>The rest of the process was more tense then it had been but Phil just wanted to get it over with.</p><p>Eventually his shirt was all gone and Phil could see just how much damage he’d done. The piglin’s right arm was the worst, as even through the blood there was obviously a chunk of flesh, maybe even bone missing. He was so skinny that the one slash could have done a lot of damage. Phil gazed back at his pack. He'd bought a potion of healing specifically for this trip, and it was right there at the top. He did have two, so using one wasn’t the end of the world.</p><p>He decided to go for it.</p><p>Phil uncorked the purple potion and showed it off to the kid. The piglin actually drank greedily once he smelled the bottle and realized it was a sweet liquid, and Phil sighed in relief at how easy that was. He watched as some of the newly shed blood from the strain scabbed over within seconds and the child watched along with him, disorientated, running a hand over the newly healed parts of his wounds. Phil tied his bandages after that, quickly and efficiently. Then he stepped away from the table.</p><p>The piglin’s eyes tracked him as he bent down to pick up his discarded armour, though he made a warning growl as Phil first touched the things. It wasn’t intimidating. “Don’t worry, if you were able to move I’d be very scared,” he said sarcastically. The angry noises were just getting louder and louder though, and, well, Phil didn’t want hearing loss, that was all, it wasn’t intimidating. It wasn’t. He put the armour down. He didn’t even try to touch the sword.</p><p>Phil considered what to do next for a few seconds, but he went with what he’d been planning since deciding not to kill the piglin. He just walked back out of the strategy chamber. It was surprisingly awkward, and Phil waved on his way out, hearing at least one confused squeak behind him. After getting back inside the blackstone hallway, he leaned against the wall and rubbed his face. That had been so stupid. It was still tempting to go back and stab his sword through the piglin’s chest, or do the exact opposite and bend down and give him a hug. It was disorientating.</p><p>Stealing would make it better, Phil figured.</p><p>So that’s what he did. Excitedly, Phil found half a suit of netherite armor and an intensely magical bow in something that might have once been an armory, as well as pocketfuls of gold. It was a little too much to carry, so Phil tried his best to remember his new technique. It was something a lot of travelers were aware of and it was used to store away the things they didn’t need. However, Phil hadn’t been an adventurer until the last two years. Before that all he’d needed to do was survive.</p><p>Concentrating, Philza imagined he could see the inherent magic in the netherite. The way it fit into the world, the ground it had initially been mined out of. Then, with a pop, he twisted it out of existence. Breathing heavily, Phil bent over and hoped he’d worked the magic properly. The first few times he’d done this he’d lost an entire tree, two chairs, and half a farm field (it was a long story).</p><p>Phil made his way down to the treasure room.</p><p>There was a lot more gold to gather today if he wanted to eat well in the future, and a nagging feeling in the back of his mind reminded him of the bastion’s original occupant, still waiting for him to return.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was trying to figure out if I'd kept any of the dramatic tension from the previous chapter because it seems like the dadza fluff kills it all immediately, but I haven't come to a concrete conclusion. Further testing might be needed.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The piglin had moved back to the throne when Phil peeked back in, hours later. He was still only in pants and bandages, but he’d perched near the pile of armor and weapons, and he was fiddling with that oversized golden crown that Phil remembered from earlier.</p><p>The child froze when he finally noticed Phil, seconds later then he should have. “Hey.” He pulled out a chair next to the piglin and sank down in it. “You feeling better?”</p><p>Phil dug through his bag and took out his lunch, just a quick sandwich and some vegetables alongside it. It was rather rude to eat in front of someone starving, right? That had to qualify as torture in someone’s book.</p><p>He tore the bread in half, and handed over some carrots, putting them on the table far away from himself. Within moments they were all taken by the little piglin who inhaled them in seconds. Phil slid him another carrot. God, he was going so soft, and in an utterly moronic way.</p><p>The kid would grow up just to try and murder any humans he saw in his path. With his skills, and his amount of unusual intelligence, Phil knew it would be easy for him. Would sparing the piglin’s life just lead to more death for the humans in the overworld? Was this some sort of perverse third degree murder? Phil dropped his head onto the table. “Fuck.”</p><p>He could still stab him. But there was no way in hell he would be able to go through with that.</p><p>Phil was done eating quicker than he would have liked.</p><p>“I’m going now, okay?” The piglin looked up at him at his words and made a questioning grunt as he stood. “Sorry dude. Don’t, uhh, do murder alright?”</p><p>Phil swung his stuff over a shoulder and checked his armor. Getting his first set of things back was something he really had to do, it was the whole reason he'd come here, so he tried inching closer to where they were laid down. He made it seem like he was going to walk right past the throne before shifting his netherite sword into his sheath and putting his hands on his diamond armor, twisting it into the void with a careful touch. That needed a moment of focus, but there wasn’t any anger from the piglin this time. He just looked intensely concentrated on how the armor had disappeared, blinking a few times in apparent confusion. The displeased sounds he expected only returned when he looked back up at Phil, after almost 30 seconds of focused staring at the empty floor. It looked like he had finally noticed the sword was missing too.</p><p>“Sorry, but this is mine. Okay little guy?" Phil backed up quickly, his chest tightening, and slid a few gold ingots onto the table. They only attracted the piglin’s attention for about two seconds before his gaze returned to the netherite.</p><p>The kid probably couldn’t walk right now, Phil figured. So running away would work just fine for ditching purposes.</p><p>Phil headed towards the door and pushed it open with his shoulder. He looked back only once.</p><p>It felt like a weight falling off of his shoulders, getting to finally leave this place. There was also a tiny spark of loneliness stirring in his chest. When had Phil seen a human being last? It must have been weeks, even a few months at most. He talked to himself, but no one ever listened back. Phil didn’t have pets. He didn’t even have that much wildlife that lived near him, despite the vegetable garden he insisted on keeping.</p><p>It had been nice to get to think about someone, something, else for a little while.</p><p>Phil ran his fingers over the blackstone walls of the corridor one more time and considered what it would be like to go and find people who liked him. He could move out of his childhood town and offer his fighting skills to somebody who deserved them. He knew he was charged too highly for things in the village right now, they already thought of him as an outsider. All he had was his house and that was all he stayed for.</p><p>Was it really worth it, when getting to talk out loud to a fucking piglin was almost bringing him to the brink of tears?</p><p>Phil rubbed his eyes and walked a little faster. He’d gotten a good idea of this building’s layout, and he barely had to think about where to turn to get out.</p><p>It was funny, he’d spent more time here in the past year than he’d spent in the town proper. Things had to change.</p><p>.</p><p>By the time Phil got back to his home, it was night, and the lonely feeling had been tamped down on again. He always managed to get it to go away in the end. His heavy armor came off with careless tugs, and he walked over to the storage room and released what he’d tucked away in the pockets between the dimensions. For once there was a lot of gold to sell. The coming summer would be amazing. (Why did he still feel uneasy) Maybe Phil would finally be able to repair the fence in the backyard, get a chicken coop, or redo the roof.</p><p>He sighed, and let his thoughts disperse. He was home now, and they could wait until morning. His feet leading the way to his bed, he shook his arms out and felt his muscles relax. Tomorrow. It could wait till then.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My update schedule and sense of consistent chapter size is very nonexistent, but I've known that from the start lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil drank his tea in silence. He sewed together new curtains in silence. He worked on his stances in silence and watched the sun go up and down throughout the short spring days.</p><p>Being free to do what he wanted was only nice for a few weeks.</p><p>It sounded crazy to say, but having nothing pressing to work on, nothing to fight, was painful. There was something grating about being indoors and doing things like canning jelly and planting seeds. Sure, it was relaxing, but that feeling cooled into dread the longer it overstayed its welcome. These were things that should be done, things that had to be done at some point, but they weren’t needed to survive and he felt useless (and when he had the presence of mind to think about it, lonely) going through the motions of being an ordinary farmer. That's why, three weeks after stealing his weight in gold, Phil found himself planning to go back into the Nether.</p><p>It was just another head start for the year to come. Most people would spend any chance they had to take time off to train, train, train, but wasn’t Phil good enough already? Wasn’t experience the best way to learn?</p><p>He chased his tangled thoughts away and ran through his list of chores. Everything was dealt with, ready to be left for a few days. He had time to disappear.</p><p>.</p><p>Wither skeletons were the worst to fight. Just touching them caused nausea, and their blades were soaked with some sort of poison that prompted fever and vomiting. The only real option was to not get hit, and that was easier said than done.</p><p>Phil was decently far away from the five or so that had noticed him, but they were so quick that he had to try ranged warfare to slow them down. Philza tied a fire charge around an arrow, then gritted his teeth and tried to get the balance right on his bow with the added weight. He pulled the string taut and released, and watched the distant explosion ripple through their ranks. It was pretty satisfying.</p><p>Phil slung his bow over his back and got back to climbing the netherrack cliffs that made up this part of the landscape. He was looking specifically for a Nether fortress, something he’d never seen in person but something that was commonly rumoured to exist in old folktales and older books.</p><p>Also, exploring the Nether was practically what Phil did for a living, and anything new he found could be beneficial.</p><p>He’d been around this part of the Nether before. Just a little while ago. There was a bastion, he knew, and the last time he’d been there it had housed one singular occupant.</p><p>He turned back to look at the wither skeletons, and almost slipped. Were they multiplying? Apparently more had come out of the woodwork when he wasn’t paying attention because that was at least double the number, with the new ones coming from a different direction.</p><p>Someone should study wither skeleton behaviour, Phil thought bitterly, because this was really strange. He was at the top of the cliff now, ready to go ahead and continue forwards. There wasn’t much he could do to slow down enemies when they were spread out like this. All he could do was be faster than them and hope he was right about skeleton climbing abilities.</p><p>He wasn’t right. They were just as quick scrambling up the base of the rocks as Phil had been, and he fought off frustration. He had the high ground here, and as long as he timed things correctly, picking them off with his bow could be a decent use of time.</p><p>He sucked in a breath and took aim carefully. The first arrow went into the eye cavity of the nearest wither skeleton, and the second knocked another’s hand off a ledge. It worked well for the most part. At least 6 fell back to the bottom of the cliff, which was really convenient even if the others were almost at his height now.</p><p>Phil put the bow down and grasped his sword with two hands. He swung and cut through the neck vertebrae of his nearest opponent, then kicked them down the precipice. He narrowly avoided the sword swing of the second skeleton, and with one gloved hand he shoved them in the shoulder, putting just enough strength into it to knock them off the cliff while remaining relatively stable. It wasn’t quite the best position to be in, and Phil scrambled back quickly before approaching the third skeleton which was just pulling itself over the last bit of rock. He sliced through its skull and watched with relief as it fell apart into a pile of ink coloured bones.</p><p>He picked his bow back up, but decided to get away and recover his energy before anything else. There was a thin bridge of netherrack up ahead that would work for picking the mobs off one by one. He rushed over it and positioned himself to shoot, before cursing himself as three of them broke off and decided to go around. “Fuck.” This was actually a good way to get himself cornered, not some stroke of luck.</p><p>One thing Phil could do, though… was block the bridge off. Bending down, he felt the netherrack beneath his fingers and imagined how many years it had existed there, how many centuries had been endured. The space it took up in reality. Then he twisted it out of sight. Phil, breathing heavily, couldn’t help but smile at how easy that was getting to be.</p><p>His options now were a little limited, and he was already running again, trying to find a better vantage point to either hide or attack from. There was a higher ledge above him, if he was willing to climb. And there was some structure in the distance - oh. That was the bastion. Phil’s heart jumped and he turned around to survey his options. It might be the most convenient escape route he had, especially with the odd lack of life in the area. Would the wither skeletons even come near it? Or would they be as scared off by the flat dead zone of activity as anything else?</p><p>Either way, having walls to fight around was a lot better with the big group of enemies he was dealing with. Phil changed direction and fled towards the bastion. Worst come to worst, he could get his stuff back pretty easily from the ruins. He’d done it before after all.</p><p>.</p><p>Phil had been right.</p><p>The skeletons stopped walking as if there was an invisible barrier protecting the outer limits of the ruined fort. It was strange to witness, and he fought the urge to go and see just how influenced the creatures really were by playing chicken with them. He was too tired to do such a thing anyway. His armor was only getting heavier and heavier the longer he had it on, and the running had cost him his breath.</p><p>He turned to look up at the blackstone fortifications, and wondered if anything had changed if he was gone. Was the piglin still there, all alone? He probably would have recovered from his wounds by now, but Phil hadn’t seen any food sources in the bastion. Pinpricks of guilt settled over his skin.</p><p>Going inside wouldn’t hurt. He knew what to expect, and clearly other mobs didn’t like this place at all or they’d be here already. Phil sighed and walked towards the entrance. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ was the most accurate saying he knew.</p><p>He crushed the little voices inside of his head saying that all he wanted from this was to pretend somebody was listening to him. There were of course many other valid and equally good reasons for being here. There were. He just hadn’t thought of them yet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did you know the amount of gold mined in the world is only equal to the volume of three Olympic sized swimming pools? </p><p>I'm not sure how, but I'm actually better at writing fight scenes than anything else and I'm really confused about it. When did this happen? How did it happen?? Am I ok???</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>New year, new chapter?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The insides of the old bastion looked the same as last time, elegant but slowly falling in on themselves from the weight of the multiple floors. The gold inlay was still there, Phil hadn’t had the heart to pull it off and ruin the beautiful carvings etched into the walls. </p><p>When not confronted with stressful life or death situations, he could unabashedly admit how beautiful this place was, even with the less than subtle dramatic lighting provided by lava pouring down the ceiling.</p><p>He didn’t want to walk any farther in right now, but the idea of hydration was calling to him and he was fairly tired. Philza slumped down against one wall and palmed for the water bottle in his bag. He caught it in one hand and flipped the lid off. It was painfully lukewarm, but he hadn’t expected anything different from the Nether, the known enemy of cold drinks.</p><p>Maybe he could work on finding an enchantment for that, Phil thought as he scanned the halls around him for any movement. It would help with keeping food fresh too. Phil looked up, just in case the piglin happened to try hiding on the support beams again. It would be nice to know if his little opponent had found him last time through sheer luck or amazing sound perception, and catching him in the act of moving around would help to answer that question.</p><p>Also, he supposed he was a little excited about getting an update on the child’s condition. He wasn't going soft, he wasn't. After all, those health potions were new and it wouldn’t do for them to turn out to be faulty in a more serious situation. </p><p>Phil didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary in the room. He relaxed just a smidge, and yawned behind one fist. Nether fights were tiring, the intense heat draining energy faster than anything else.</p><p>Then his hair stood on end. A feeling like static rippled across his skin and Phil swung his head around. Oh. To his left, not trying to hide at all, was the tiny piglin he’d ended up so invested in. He didn’t seem aggressive. His hand was resting lightly on a leather wrapped sword sheath, but his head was cocked to the side, and he was blinking slowly. He seemed confused. </p><p>“Hey, hey,” Phil whispered.</p><p>The piglin shied away and then ran a hand down his right arm, where a scabbed over wound was still healing. Phil had bandaged it last time he was here (and caused the injury to begin with). He had to wonder how much of that was clear in the child’s mind, and how much of it had been scrubbed away by pain and fever.</p><p>“I’m sorry for intruding, mate. But you have to do what you have to do.” </p><p>Phil thought about how exactly he should operate just now, with the slightly violent baby mob that had practically killed him before. There was no serious injuries to contend with here. Eventually he held out the remainder of his water bottle, since he still had it on the ground beside him and sudden movements like looking in his bag seemed like a worse idea than a bad gift. The kid had been interested in his food, armor, and weapons last time. Giving him some rent might be a good idea.</p><p>Did piglins drink water? It would be really hard to find in the scorching biomes of the Nether, but Phil had heard all life needed it to survive.</p><p>The child leaned forward a little and blinked at the glass bottle, but didn’t reach to take it. Phil decided to put it down on the floor, and pushed it in front of him with his boot. The piglin stared, then his eyes came up to meet Phil’s and the man wondered if he was imagining the confusion in them. The kid reached out quickly to take the bottle, and then cradled it to his chest. He tapped the condensation on sides of the glass, and then huffed at the strange sensation. Phil watched with humour as he brought the water to his face, and proceeded to lick the sides of it.</p><p>Right. Bottle caps weren’t self explanatory. </p><p>Phil laughed, at his own forgetfulness and at the behaviour itself. “I’ll… deal with that later.” He turned his attention to the few plates of engraved gold that he’d slotted on top of his diamond armor as a quick distraction for angry piglins. “You want one of these too?” Phil slid a single piece across the ground, and the kid darted forward again after a moment of stillness. He put Phil's water bottle down and fiddled with the gold slice instead.</p><p>“Bet I have food too.” Phil brought his bag out, going slowly to prevent fear. Apples, cooked potatoes, and dried chicken were wrapped in parchment paper and tucked to the side of the satchel. He found a few other things, in pockets or rolling around in the bottom of his bag. A large owl feather in brown and white was sitting in a small outer portion, and a notebook held a series of dried flowers and leaves. Three emeralds from the village traders were sat where Phil usually put his iron and gold ore. </p><p>He slid the green gemstones across to the kid first, and his eyes lit up. The piglin held the items up to the harsh lava light that filled the bastion, watching the emerald sparkle (was there anything in the Nether that was as vibrantly green as those stones? Phil wasn’t sure). Then, Phil carefully reached over to leave the owl feather between them without damaging it. The child huffed happily and when Phil gave him a flower next, he actually sat down where it was left instead of retreating backwards. Phil smiled. It was fun just watching the piglin’s reactions.</p><p>“Fuck, I’m already distracted aren’t I. I do have some food as well.” He picked up an apple and passed it over. It was grabbed almost immediately, and eaten even quicker, the core as well as the flesh. Honestly, that was concerning. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you mate. Oh, shit, can you even eat apples?” Phil still remembered that feeling of tiny ribs under his hands. He’d assumed, before, that the kid wouldn’t eat things that weren’t edible to him, but what the fuck, he was starving. Phil recognized the feeling of being willing to eat anything because of just how empty his stomach had been.</p><p>Potatoes seemed like more of a pig thing then apples? But they were cooked, and that didn’t make sense for anything but a human. “Fuck.” </p><p>Was there a Nether forest around somewhere? (No, no. Why was he considering this?) Thinking for a minute, there was a crimson forest back the way he came, Phil was fairly sure of it, and he'd seen piglins eating the fungi that grew there. (He was really going soft. He didn’t have time for this, damnit)</p><p>For the moment, Phil took another one of his apples and his hunting knife, and carefully cored it before handing the little pieces over. It felt weird putting washed fruit on the dusty ground, but it was the best he could do with the limitations of having almost killed his recipient. After the child had clearly gotten used to what was happening, he grabbed one of the apple slices right out of Phil’s hand, and the man froze, then beamed. “You’re brave, aren’t you?!” Or starving, Phil thought to himself. It really did pull on his heartstrings. When the piglin hadn’t been getting food out of this, it was obvious just how much more cautious he was.</p><p>“Listen, tell you what. I don’t really have anything better to do, and you’re adorable, I’m sorry to say it. I might as well come back tomorrow or something with food you can actually eat. Fucking hell. I guess this is just my life now.” Phil buried his head in his hands. “This is what happens when you don’t have friends, bud. I suppose it’s better I’m talking to you than a fucking rock, but not by much.” </p><p>The piglin, watching him talk, twitched an ear and passed him back an emerald.</p><p>“I don’t need that,” Phil said. “You can keep it.”</p><p>He was given another one of the emeralds for his trouble, and couldn’t help but smile.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The fluff is taking over. Someone help, quick. This is the time of reckoning.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW: gore, elements of, uhhh, cannibalism</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was still morning, although the Nether didn’t change throughout the day in any meaningful capacity since it was always illuminated with fire and lava. Phil’s early hours were spent looking for berries and mushrooms in the crimson forest by his Nether portal, all so that he could fulfill the promise he’d made to his little acquaintance.</p><p>Blackstone pillars rose in the distance like flags above a castle. Philza got access to the bastion the easiest way there was, over the battered bridge that served as the front door. It was nice not having to worry about stealth anymore.</p><p>“Hey, kid!” Phil called as the blackstone passage opened up into an arching, warmly lit room. “I brought you things.”</p><p>He loitered around the makeshift foyer for a while, assuming that the child was caught up in something or other. He’d never been ‘late’ before, if that made sense, so Phil felt a hint of unease as he waited five minutes and there was still nothing.</p><p>“I have actual food for you. C’mon mate.”</p><p>Phil furrowed his brows as there really was no response. He knew pretty confidently that the piglin could notice when anything entered this place. It seemed like a sixth sense of sorts. If the kid was here, he would have stepped out already. </p><p>It was time to go look around further within the old structure. The treasure chamber was empty, and so were the twisting hallways he remembered so well. Phil went back to the first floor after checking the one secret room he was aware of, and slumped over in the entranceway. Something felt wrong. He checked over his arrows and equipment. All sharpened to perfection, all deadly. Maybe it was time to go for a walk.</p><p>.</p><p>The idea that the kid had just up and left made a surprising amount of sense. Again, there was no food in the bastion. Of course the kid needed to go scavenge for it at some point, he didn’t know that Phil was planning to do it for him. Nothing was strange about this initial premise. Still, Phil wished that he could have gotten here sooner. Somewhere within him he doubted the kid would actually come back to the bastion if he'd left (did piglins have consistent homes? Shelter? He’d never noticed anything like that before).</p><p>“Last chance,” Phil offered in a mock serious tone as he backed out the front entrance. So much for having a relaxing day (the deadly heat made that a silly wish to begin with).</p><p>Everything was still quiet so Phil left on careful feet. Time to do a little more exploration. </p><p>Back in the overworld, Philza was good at hunting, tracking prey through the trees and following broken branches to find injured animals. The Nether didn’t have such convenient trail markers, but what it did have was dust. Thin red powder, almost like sand, tended to scatter itself across the ground and it occasionally left shallow marks behind when it piled up enough and something swept across it. Hooves made quite distinctive imprints. </p><p>Some dirt had been stirred up in familiar patterns beside the bridge to the bastion, and to Phil that meant he was on the right track. He decided that the most practical way to look around would be to go in circles around the old ruin, keeping it in his vision but far away so that he was able to see new areas. </p><p>It went well. Even with the bastion still off in the distance, there weren't nearly as many mobs as there usually were in the Nether. Wither skeletons, piglins, and ghasts alike all avoided this place like the plague. </p><p>Phil had always thought it was a natural feature of the ruins. Today would change his mind about that.</p><p>As he crested another hill in order to get a good vantage point, he saw something that made his heart skip a beat. A pink body covered in blood and viscera was lying still in the valley beneath Phil’s perch, with no gold in sight. <i>What the fuck?</i> After a brief bout of panic, he noticed that it wasn't a child sized body at all, but a full grown piglin, clad in the leather hide armor that was so distinctive to them. It was still rather disturbing.</p><p>Did piglins get hunted by anything other than humans? He was fairly sure they didn’t maul each other like that. It was more than a little alarming. Did Phil’s companion go scavenging then get killed off before he could run away? That would explain why he wasn’t around. <i>Fuck.</i></p><p>Phil scanned the area, and seeing nothing, dropped down to investigate. The throat of this piglin was slashed open cleanly, and Phil noticed its sword was taken, as there was an empty sheath for it. The smell of blood was strong and suffocating in the air.</p><p>Phil could see another splatter of crimson going to the right. <i>Was this a massacre?</i> Phil was fine admitting that he himself had done things like this in the past, but it felt different when there was an unknown factoring into things, and the possibility of death for someone he’d come to see as a confidant, in a twisted sort of way.</p><p>He moved over to where the new blood could be seen - and there were two bodies, strewn behind some rocks. Both piglin. Both looted, apparently. A new part of the valley made itself known behind the pair of corpses, hidden by high cliffs.</p><p>There was even more carnage in this additional section. A decapitated head had rolled into the centre of the gorge, it’s owner almost entirely painted in red. Another piglin was stabbed in the chest. But there was yet another body, one being looked over by someone else. Something else.</p><p>Phil felt a little numb. “Hey, mate.”</p><p>The tiny figure turned around, practically drenched in blood and holding onto a new golden sword. He seemed to recognise Phil, grunting softly as he looked him over. His eyes were unfocused, and he soon looked back down at the dead body, putting his hands over the stab wound in its side and collecting blood in his palms. He drank it.</p><p>
  <i>Phil had wondered where liquid came from in the Nether.</i>
</p><p>He took a cautious step forward and noticed that his hands were already glued to his weapons. He kept them there. It was a worthy precaution. </p><p>“I really, really, want to think the best of you,” Phil said, and here he had to take a breath. “But. I’ve never fucking seen this happen before.” He tried to keep his head, he really did, but the metallic tang of blood was setting his teeth on edge. Philza knew about environments. He hadn’t studied how ecosystems worked, but he’d picked the science up over time, and this one child was such an outlier for what he’d seen of the Nether that it was disturbing. <i>Maybe he hadn’t been abandoned at that empty bastion. Maybe he’d helped create it.</i></p><p>Phil’s mind was still going a mile a minute, but the piglin hadn’t stopped moving. Without regard, he sorted through the items that the dead body held. Food, the same kind of mushrooms Phil had found. Weapons, a well worn crossbow. A chunk of gold.</p><p>All of it was placed on stained pieces of leather and folded up into small parcels. Those packages joined a variety of other similarly shaped pouches slung over the piglin’s roughly made belt. It all felt <i>well planned, routine</i>.</p><p>Piglins were social animals, Phil had noticed. They didn’t hunt each other down like game, they traded, they took care of their own. As his instinctual horror faded away, Phil found himself wondering about what had caused this. Was it the isolation? The strange level of intelligence? Or was it simply sheer desperation?</p><p>The piglin child turned around, and looked at Phil. His ears were trembling, and he flinched away as his eyes landed on the severed head of the older piglin he’d seemingly decapitated with ease. </p><p>Phil’s stomach dropped. His earlier worries seemed silly now. </p><p>“Oh, no,” Phil whispered. “Come here. Come here.”</p><p>He dropped to his knees and extended a hand. It didn’t take long to get a response.</p><p>On shaky legs, the piglin stumbled towards him. His breath came out in shaky gasps, and he gingerly reached out a black tipped hand to Phil’s own. His grip was incredibly light.</p><p>“It’s okay, kid, it’s okay,” Phil murmured, even though he himself didn’t feel okay. He gradually tightened his fingers and pulled the piglin closer to him. There was no real resistance. The child dropped into Phil’s arms and he could feel the kid’s heartbeat beating a fast and irregular tune against his chest.</p><p>Phil hadn’t hugged someone in such a long time that even amidst the tragedy he still felt warmed, still felt like crying. </p><p>“I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner. I'm sorry I never took you home with me. I’m sorry about all of this, mate. So sorry.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, we finally got a dadza hug, but at what cost?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Quick A/N</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oh fuck I'm doing what I hate the most and making a chapter wide A/N, why, why, how could this happen -</p>
<p>ahem</p>
<p>I mean, hi there</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As you may have noticed, this fic hasn't updated in a while! </p>
<p>Unfortunately, it's on hold. I've had a lot of writer's block with this story lately, mainly since my writing, even from only a few months back, has been bugging me and could use additional editing. Also, I've been hashing out my plot threads and adding a few things in because genre is a bitch and I've realised I need more action-adventure in my life to achieve true happiness. Hello side character/plot device/inciting incident Wilbur Soot, nice to meet you.</p>
<p>I have another fic on the go, if you'd like to check that out while this is stewing. It's honestly been amazing to write (coauthors, guys, they're the best) and I'm so so happy with where it's heading, so - if you want to read more enemies-to-friends slowburn featuring Phil and Techno, give it a shot.</p>
<p>See you soon,<br/>Orichals</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This whole chapter will be deleted later, don't worry (narrative flow is my jam)... I just thought I'd keep you guys in the loop <s>plus gain hits and kudos - god, is this what scraping the bottom of the barrel feels like?</s></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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